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Browsing Tag: pool

Jumping In

We met with a real estate agent today. Yes, today. Yes, we’re still sick. Yes, I was cleaning yesterday while hacking up one lung and sneezing another. I know. Insane. The agent walked through our house with a computer, jotting down notes, peeking into our closets. I held my breath, apologized for the laundry, and showed off the fireplace mantle my husband built.  She laughed and told me to stop being nervous, and then she told us that we really didn’t need to change anything in the house before listing.  You know what that means? The blue walls are staying, people. That happy sea of blue in our dining room, and the red brick wall in the family room and the deep purple of the playroom, all staying. Because, she said. She loves our house. And she loves that it’s not beige. I know. I can’t believe it either. I gently told Saoirse that we’re probably going to start looking for a new place to live. She looked around, fearful, and told me that she didn’t want to move. That she loves our house.  I told her that…

Hey, Spare a Dime? I Need Some Sense

David had hauled out the miter saw, getting ready to go to work on the new tops for the tables we keep poolside (doesn’t that make us sound all richie-rich, using words like “poolside?”  Like we walk around saying, “Oh, just bring me that martini poolside, dahling, and be sure to make it a dirty,” when we’re really like, “Dude, will you throw me a beer out of that cooler?  Try not to get the cap in the water, man.  Thanks.”).  We were so happy about a week ago.  We’d replaced our old pool furniture with some snazzier stuff (and by snazzier, I mean they weren’t plastic and covered with mildew).  And because nothing says “luxury” like prowling the discounted inventory at Lowe’s in mid-July, we also ended up getting a couple of little tables.  Yes, they had glass in their tops, and yes, it is a ridiculously stupid idea to put glass on top of concrete mere feet away from the pool, the liner of which you spent about a bazillion dollars to replace just two years ago, but…

Ah, Yes

Happy Independence Day, everyone.  Waking up today (at 8:30!  How did that happen?  More importantly, how did our children let that happen?), I was thinking about my summer break between my first and second year of college, when I was working in the misses department of our local JCPenney.  What a mind-numbingly awful job.  I still distinctly remember closing up the store after hours at night and having to walk past all those creepy mannequins lining the dark aisle.  Brrr.  I still get the heeby-jeebies thinking about it. But back to what I was saying.  I remember that summer particularly because I woke up early on July 4.  I woke up cursing the sun, the bright sky, and all the evils of the time card, let me tell you.  I had to put on some tanned-colored pantyhose, my professional-yet-comfortable heels and work that golly awful job.  It was my first real taste of the bitterness of adult responsibility.  Granted, that job was paying for my books for fall semester, but that July 4th all I was concerned about was declaring my independence from price tags and returns without receipts. That was a long time…